Overcoming the Past
Back in my junior year of college, I was in my core classes for my emphasis in Outdoor Education and Leadership. It was spring semester and I was taking 18 units. But 12 of those units were what we called a block semester. I spent my Tuesday and Thursday evening in class for two and a half hours, cramming in 4 courses at once, and the end of the semester, we would embark on a 17 day backpacking trip. The semester was busy. My life consisted of only work and that class. I didn't know anything else during those four months.
Now don't get me wrong. The classes were amazing. We spent a lot of time outside and our cohort got very close. We were a family. There were early mornings and late nights working together getting ready to spend 17 in New Mexico learning all we could about guiding.
When the day before the trip came, I was freaking out. And in part, that sabotaged the trip for me. Although, the first six days were challenging but fun. I felt comfortable. It was challenging physically, but I found I was comfortable being outside that much. Though, I couldn't see it at the time, my maturity level for owning up and taking responsibly was lacking a bit compared to the rest of the group, and that showed to my instructors. By day 6, my instructors pulled me aside and we had a talk. They told me it was time to go home.
I was crushed. I agreed with them because I didn't want to bring down the rest of the group, but that didn't make it any easier. I had worked towards this trip for months, and now, I was leaving before the fun part even started. We were already at the vans resupplying for the next 11 days, so it wasn't long until my instructor had dropped me off at a motel so I could await for a pick up from my dad. I was in disbelief that this was actually happening. I called my mom sobbing. My dream of being a guide was falling apart around me. I didn't know what to do. The whole reason I picked that specific emphasis was to be outside constantly. Heck, the reason I left the dream of becoming a physical therapist was because I couldn't stand being in a lab for hours at a time. I left the science field to become a guide, an instructor, to be a badass mountain chick that thrived being outside. My confidence was shot. I didn't know which direction to go or even how to feel. I felt utterly lost. Confused. Stranded.
It took a while to get even just a little bit of my confidence back. I started hiking around Flagstaff again. Working my body a little bit so it could build itself stronger. I signed up for Team Run Flagstaff's Step Into Running for the first time. It was a run-walk program for those who had never ran before. It was perfect for me. I started researching trips and hikes I could do that were longer and harder. But I still didn't feel confident enough to do them.
I spent that summer working at the pool at my university. Teaching swim lessons all morning, lifeguarding all afternoon, and programming activities for the kid's summer program in between. When I got home, the last thing I thought about was going outside and being more active. I was pooped. And I was still depressed. I tried to fill that void with material items that I couldn't afford and I thought would make me a better hiker when I got out again or I spent too much time with boys. All of this was to push the feeling of failure out of my mind.
My first time camping after my failed trip, I was the educator on a Leave No Trace training course that my college's outdoor program hosted. I was the intern there my last semester of college in hope to redeem myself. Even just camping, I was nervous and scared. It turned out fine of course and I started to find a hint of peace outside again. It was the start of healing.
Around graduation, I got an invitation for a graduation get together from some classmates from the block semester. I had seen some of them since the class, and none of them had mentioned me leaving the trip. In fact, one of my classmates was even more inclusive to me than he was before. It was comforting. At the party, I got to have a chat with another classmate. He brought up me leaving the trip. He asked how hard it was to depart. "It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do," I responded. "I don't think I could have done it if I had to," he told me. We talked a little bit more and I started to open up a tad about feeling lost after. That talk led to a little bit more healing. I'm thankful for that talk to this day.
A week after graduation, I packed my car and headed to a ranch in Colorado that I had visited as kid on a family vacation. I had been hired on the be a wrangler and lead horseback rides through the Gunnison National Forest. It was the furthest I would ever have been away from my family and the longest too, but I was so stoked. I was ready.
That summer changed me. I was outside everyday. Working with large animals, getting dusty and dirty, and after a day's work, I would head back to a bunk house to clean up and spend the rest of the day on the porch with my coworkers and exploring around the ranch. Towards the end of summer, we camped. A lot. There was a lot of healing that happened in that last couple of months of summer. I fell in love with sleeping outside all over again. I was getting the best nights sleep ever and and I started feeling calmer.
The months following my return home from Colorado, I started therapy. My winter months in Colorado had kind of a negative effect on me towards the end. We didn't talk a lot about my failed trip in school, I did mention it a little bit in the first couple months, but she could see I was healing from it. We talked a lot about spirituality and holistic healing. And a huge part of that was being outside. Whether it was a few hours, days, or weeks, she encouraged me to go outside and find healing there. So I started walking, a lot. Then after the summer, it lead to running, and weightlifting, and a lot more hiking. It took a few months until I was running multiple times a week as well as going to the gym to lift. But during that time, I started to eat more whole foods, and less processed ones. I started reading more and watching TV and Netflix less. They didn't appeal to me anymore. I started meditating and stretching on a daily basis. I kept my room clean and I kept only what I needed and used. I found literature from the famous outdoorsmen, like the Yvon Chouinard 1972 catalog on clean climbing, writings from Jack Kerouac, and books from Richard Louv and Kevin Fedarko. I sucked in everything I could get my hands on. Even my ears. I was a sponge to podcasts like The Dirtbag Diaries, The Outside Podcast, and She Explores. I watched documentaries that inspired me. I started spending quality time with people who also inspired me and shared the same outlook on life that I did. I started to mature in the way I needed to.
It was then when I let myself really think back to that semester. What really went wrong? After meditating on it and journaling, I realized I was far from the maturity level I needed to be at for that trip. I couldn't get up on time, even in the backcountry, I was too accustomed to being comfortable in bed and watching Netflix. I did not spend enough time outside at all leading up to the trip, or, enough time outside in general. I was not the badass chick who spent time on the trails, rather a person who wanted to be but would prefer to watch Friends on Netflix for the tenth time. It was a hard realization to come to, but it helped, extremely. When I came to the realization that that was the reason I failed, I knew I had to get back outside and truly learn from my mistakes. But where do I start?
My grandmother started asking me what I wanted for Christmas (it was the middle of October). I didn't need anything. So I asked for the opportunity of experiences. I had never owned a National Parks pass before, and I live an hour from the Grand Canyon. So I asked for money for a pass, as well as a parking pass for the parking lots in Sedona, Arizona. I had hiked down there when I needed to get out of the house and feel the warm sun on my skin. But the parking lots cost money, and it can add up. So I asked for some money for a Red Rocks parking pass so I didn't have to worry about paying for parking, I could just go and do all the hikes I could find. I figured Sedona and especially the Grand Canyon, master of all lessons, would be a perfect place to start.
"Nobody achieves anything great from being comfy-cozy." -Alex Honnald, Free Solo
Now don't get me wrong. The classes were amazing. We spent a lot of time outside and our cohort got very close. We were a family. There were early mornings and late nights working together getting ready to spend 17 in New Mexico learning all we could about guiding.
When the day before the trip came, I was freaking out. And in part, that sabotaged the trip for me. Although, the first six days were challenging but fun. I felt comfortable. It was challenging physically, but I found I was comfortable being outside that much. Though, I couldn't see it at the time, my maturity level for owning up and taking responsibly was lacking a bit compared to the rest of the group, and that showed to my instructors. By day 6, my instructors pulled me aside and we had a talk. They told me it was time to go home.
I was crushed. I agreed with them because I didn't want to bring down the rest of the group, but that didn't make it any easier. I had worked towards this trip for months, and now, I was leaving before the fun part even started. We were already at the vans resupplying for the next 11 days, so it wasn't long until my instructor had dropped me off at a motel so I could await for a pick up from my dad. I was in disbelief that this was actually happening. I called my mom sobbing. My dream of being a guide was falling apart around me. I didn't know what to do. The whole reason I picked that specific emphasis was to be outside constantly. Heck, the reason I left the dream of becoming a physical therapist was because I couldn't stand being in a lab for hours at a time. I left the science field to become a guide, an instructor, to be a badass mountain chick that thrived being outside. My confidence was shot. I didn't know which direction to go or even how to feel. I felt utterly lost. Confused. Stranded.
It took a while to get even just a little bit of my confidence back. I started hiking around Flagstaff again. Working my body a little bit so it could build itself stronger. I signed up for Team Run Flagstaff's Step Into Running for the first time. It was a run-walk program for those who had never ran before. It was perfect for me. I started researching trips and hikes I could do that were longer and harder. But I still didn't feel confident enough to do them.
I spent that summer working at the pool at my university. Teaching swim lessons all morning, lifeguarding all afternoon, and programming activities for the kid's summer program in between. When I got home, the last thing I thought about was going outside and being more active. I was pooped. And I was still depressed. I tried to fill that void with material items that I couldn't afford and I thought would make me a better hiker when I got out again or I spent too much time with boys. All of this was to push the feeling of failure out of my mind.
My first time camping after my failed trip, I was the educator on a Leave No Trace training course that my college's outdoor program hosted. I was the intern there my last semester of college in hope to redeem myself. Even just camping, I was nervous and scared. It turned out fine of course and I started to find a hint of peace outside again. It was the start of healing.
Around graduation, I got an invitation for a graduation get together from some classmates from the block semester. I had seen some of them since the class, and none of them had mentioned me leaving the trip. In fact, one of my classmates was even more inclusive to me than he was before. It was comforting. At the party, I got to have a chat with another classmate. He brought up me leaving the trip. He asked how hard it was to depart. "It was the hardest thing I've ever had to do," I responded. "I don't think I could have done it if I had to," he told me. We talked a little bit more and I started to open up a tad about feeling lost after. That talk led to a little bit more healing. I'm thankful for that talk to this day.
A week after graduation, I packed my car and headed to a ranch in Colorado that I had visited as kid on a family vacation. I had been hired on the be a wrangler and lead horseback rides through the Gunnison National Forest. It was the furthest I would ever have been away from my family and the longest too, but I was so stoked. I was ready.
That summer changed me. I was outside everyday. Working with large animals, getting dusty and dirty, and after a day's work, I would head back to a bunk house to clean up and spend the rest of the day on the porch with my coworkers and exploring around the ranch. Towards the end of summer, we camped. A lot. There was a lot of healing that happened in that last couple of months of summer. I fell in love with sleeping outside all over again. I was getting the best nights sleep ever and and I started feeling calmer.
The months following my return home from Colorado, I started therapy. My winter months in Colorado had kind of a negative effect on me towards the end. We didn't talk a lot about my failed trip in school, I did mention it a little bit in the first couple months, but she could see I was healing from it. We talked a lot about spirituality and holistic healing. And a huge part of that was being outside. Whether it was a few hours, days, or weeks, she encouraged me to go outside and find healing there. So I started walking, a lot. Then after the summer, it lead to running, and weightlifting, and a lot more hiking. It took a few months until I was running multiple times a week as well as going to the gym to lift. But during that time, I started to eat more whole foods, and less processed ones. I started reading more and watching TV and Netflix less. They didn't appeal to me anymore. I started meditating and stretching on a daily basis. I kept my room clean and I kept only what I needed and used. I found literature from the famous outdoorsmen, like the Yvon Chouinard 1972 catalog on clean climbing, writings from Jack Kerouac, and books from Richard Louv and Kevin Fedarko. I sucked in everything I could get my hands on. Even my ears. I was a sponge to podcasts like The Dirtbag Diaries, The Outside Podcast, and She Explores. I watched documentaries that inspired me. I started spending quality time with people who also inspired me and shared the same outlook on life that I did. I started to mature in the way I needed to.
It was then when I let myself really think back to that semester. What really went wrong? After meditating on it and journaling, I realized I was far from the maturity level I needed to be at for that trip. I couldn't get up on time, even in the backcountry, I was too accustomed to being comfortable in bed and watching Netflix. I did not spend enough time outside at all leading up to the trip, or, enough time outside in general. I was not the badass chick who spent time on the trails, rather a person who wanted to be but would prefer to watch Friends on Netflix for the tenth time. It was a hard realization to come to, but it helped, extremely. When I came to the realization that that was the reason I failed, I knew I had to get back outside and truly learn from my mistakes. But where do I start?
My grandmother started asking me what I wanted for Christmas (it was the middle of October). I didn't need anything. So I asked for the opportunity of experiences. I had never owned a National Parks pass before, and I live an hour from the Grand Canyon. So I asked for money for a pass, as well as a parking pass for the parking lots in Sedona, Arizona. I had hiked down there when I needed to get out of the house and feel the warm sun on my skin. But the parking lots cost money, and it can add up. So I asked for some money for a Red Rocks parking pass so I didn't have to worry about paying for parking, I could just go and do all the hikes I could find. I figured Sedona and especially the Grand Canyon, master of all lessons, would be a perfect place to start.
"Nobody achieves anything great from being comfy-cozy." -Alex Honnald, Free Solo
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